THE  CHljpMb  OF  TO-DAY 


Her  Self-Complacency;  her  Indolence 


her  Liberalism;  her  Worldliness. 


A  SERMON 

PREACHED  IN  THE  MT.  AUBURN  BAPTIST  CHURCH,  CINCINNATI,  SUNDAY  MORNING,  NOV.  25,  1865. 


BY  THE  PASTOR, 

Rev.  W.  C.  WILKINSON. 


PUBLISHED  13  Y  REQUEST. 


CINCINNATI: 

MOORE,  WILSTACII  &  BALDWIN,  PRINTERS. 

1865. 


EXPLANATORY  NOTE. 

The  immediate  occasion  of  the  following  sermon  was  a  request,  unanimously  voted 
at  a  meeting  unprecedentedly  large  of  representatives  from  all  the  evangelical 
churches  in  Cincinnati,  that  in  view  of  the  appalling  increase  of  public  immorality 
and  the  accompanying  comparative  decline  of  numerical  Christian  strength,  the 
pulpits  of  the  city  should,  on  the  Sunday  morning  ensuing,  present  in  some  form  the 
subject  here  discussed.  It  was,  therefore,  not  written  in  a  spasm  of  individual  alarmr 
nor  to  establish  a  favorite  crotchet  of  chronic  despondency.  It  was  not  designed,  as 
the  thoughtful  reader  may  see,  for  an  exhaustive  and  ultimate  prognosis  of  the 
Church’s  condition.  It  is  simply  a  tentative  of  speculation  adventured  in  a  present 
most  exigent  interest  of  practical  reform  in  morals  and  in  Christian  life.  It  is  now 
printed,  because  some  who  heard  it  preached,  believing,  in  the  generous  enthusiasm 
of  the  moment,  that  it  might  be  farther  useful  in  a  more  numerous  audience  of  the 
press,  requested  the  privilege  of  submitting  it  to  that  test  of  its  real  adaptedness  to 
the  Church’s  need.  Already,  be  it  gratefully  recorded,  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
is  apparently  falsifying  its  surmises  by  a  most  spring-like  revival  of  religion  in  the 
congregation  to  whom  it  was  originally  preached.  That  same  Spirit  speed  it  on  its 
mission  of  awakening  the  dispersion  of  believing  hearts  wherever  it  may  come ! 

Mount  Auburn,  December  25,  1865.  W.  C.  W. 


3lo 

W  (>S 


.. 


\ 

SERMON. 


Can  ye  not  discern  the  signs  of  the  times  ?— Matthew  XVI,  3. 


TO  determine  at  a  given  epoch  of  history,  what  is,  upon 
the  whole,  the  strongest  and  most  inclusive  tendency 
of  the  current  age,  is  confessedly  ever  among  the  highest 
efforts  of  the  generalizing  and  forecasting  mind.  The 
movement  is  so  vast  and  so  various;  it  is  disturbed  by  so 
many  cross-currents  and  counter-currents ;  it  intermits  so 
often  with  alternations  of  ebb  and  flow;  it  occupies  some¬ 
times  so  much  historic  space  to  accomplish  its  cycle;  it 
blends  so  imperceptibly  with  the  movement  which  pre¬ 
cedes  and  with  that  which  follows;  and  withal  you  are 
yourself  so  inextricably  involved  in  it,  and  form  so  indi¬ 
visible  a  part  of  it, — that  it  requires  no  little  temerity  of 
speculation  to  hazard  any  confident  conjecture  of  the 
direction  in  which  your  own  age  is  drifting,  and  of  the 
destination  to  which  it  tends. 

This  problem,  proposed  in  the  question  of  the  text: 
Can  ye  not  discern  the  signs  of  the  times  ?  admits  of  illus¬ 
tration  from  a  striking  astronomical  analogy.  You  know 
it  is  a  sublime  presumption  of  science,  conceived  after 
centuries  of  patient  perusal  of  the  starry  scroll  of  the 
heavens,  that  besides  the  earth’s  rotation  upon  its  axis, 
shared  by  its  continent,  its  ocean,  and  its  air,  and  besides 
its  revolution  about  the  sun,  shared  by  its  lunar  satellite, 


4 


THE  CHURCH  OF  TO-DAY. 


it  has  likewise  a  magnificent  motion  of  translation  through 
space,  in  common  with  the  entire  solar  system  and  the 
sun  itself,  toward  some  point  as  yet  hardly  more  than 
conjectured,  in  a  certain  region^f  the  illimitable  celestial 
sphere.  It  is  difficult  for  us  to^Rili^e  vividly  the  earth’s 
diurnal  motion,  though  that  is  indirectly  made  sensible  to 
us  by  the  vicissitude  of  day  and  night.  It  is  still  more 
difficult  to  appreciate  the  earth’s  annual  motion  in  its 
orbit,  though  that  is  illustrated  by  the  quaternion  of 
the  seasons.  Consider,  then,  what  must  be  the  supreme 
effort  of  the  imagination  to  conceive  of  a  movement  which 
sweeps  everything  visible  along  with  it,  except  the  fixed 
stars  themselves;  and  what  must  be  the  corresponding 
effort  of  the  intellect  to  solve  the  arduous  problem  of  its 
pathway  and  its  goal!  Like  is  the  difficulty  of  arriving 
at  any  trustworthy  conclusion  as  to  that  all-embracing- 
historic  drift  on  whose  broad  and  billowy  bosom  you,  with 
your  whole  generation,  are  embarked. 

Astronomy,  however,  is  emboldened  to  adventure  her 
audacious  guess,  as  to  this  secular  motion  of  the  planet¬ 
ary  system,  by  the  fact  that  there  are  fixed  stars,  or  stars 
relatively  fixed,  from  which  her  observations  can  be  reck¬ 
oned.  Steadily  pointing  her  glass  toward  these,  she  is 
able  to  frame  her  conjecture,  notwithstanding  the  in¬ 
equalities,  the  perturbations,  the  nutations,  the  composi¬ 
tions,  with  which  her  problem  is  perplexed.  In  like 
manner,  Revelation  has  furnished  us  with  at  least  a  few 
fixed  points  of  reference  from  which  we  may  take  our 
observations  and  form  our  conclusions  in  determining 
what  is  the  true  tendency  of  our  times.  I  invite  you 
to-day  to  recur  with  me  to  some  of  these  established  facts 
of  revelation,  with  a  view  to  bringing  the  age  in  which 
we  live  into  collation  and  comparison  with  them.  The 
text  itself  furnishes  the  phrase  which  shall  entitle  my 
theme.  My  theme  is,  Signs  of  the  Times. 

In  treating  this  theme  I  purpose  to  photograph  as  well 


HER  SELF-COMPLACENCY. 


5 


as  I  may  be  able,  some  of  the  more  conspicuous  charac¬ 
teristic  features  of  the  present  religious  aspect  of  the 
world ;  and  to  set  them  in  their  order  as  they  are  succes¬ 
sively  represented  by  the  side  of  those  scriptures  which 
interpret  their  symptomatic  significance. 

I.  The  first  feature  of  the  present  religious  aspect  of 
the  world,  which  I  would  attempt  to  fix  for  your  contem¬ 
plation  is,  its  self-complacency. 

The  Church  was  never  better  satisfied  with  herself  than 
she  is  now.  Her  aspiration  was  never  less  removed 
above  the  level  of  her  attainment.  She  is  pretty  much 
what  she  wishes  to  be.  She  is  rich,  and  numerous,  and 
respectable,  and  well-educated,  and  powerful.  She  lives 
easily,  resting  under  her  own  vine  and  fig-tree.  There  is 
no  one  to  molest  her  or  make  her  afraid.  She  is  recog¬ 
nized  wherever  she  goes— in  society,  in  the  markets,  in 
halls  of  legislature,  in  the  courts  of  kings,  in  the  fellow¬ 
ships  of  literature,  and  even  in  the  iron  encounters  of 
war.  Where  is  the  Church  a  stranger?  Where  does  she 
fail  to  receive  her  bow?  She  has  reasons  for  self-compla¬ 
cency,  and  she  is  self-complacent. 

The  simper  of  self-complacency  on  the  face  of  the 
church  is  an  elusive  expression,  not  easy  to  seize  and  to 
fix.  But  it  is  nevertheless  a  very  radiant  expression,  and 
it  mantles  and  overspreads  the  whole  cast  of  the  features. 
The  Church  wears  it  and  displays  it,  as  the  successful  self- 
made  man  does  that  characteristic  look  of  his  own  which 
to  the  observant  eye  reads  off  the  entire  history  of  a 
career.  Indeed,  the  Church  of  to-day  may  be  not  inaptly 
compared  to  the  man  who  from  his  youth  has  coped  with 
adverse  fortune,  single-handed,  and  at  last  prevailed.  lie 
has  now  grown  comfortably  old  and  counts  his  silver 
hairs.  He  has  retired  from  active  business,  and  he  lives 
mostly  at  his  country  seat.  He  drives  to  town,  however, 
almost  every  day  ;  for  he  loves  to  revive  the  recollection  of 
the  time  when  he  too  struggled,  like  those  younger  men. 


6 


THE  CHURCH  OP  TO-DAY. 


He  does  not  struggle  any  longer,  but  he  patronizes  those 
who  do,  and  tells  them  the  story  of  his  career  to  encour¬ 
age  them.  As  for  himself,  he  lives  on  his  money,  and  not 
on  his  enterprise.  He  is  public-spirited,  however,  and, 
with  an  easy  smile,  he  puts  his  Band  into  his  pocket,  and 
makes  his  cash  contribution  to  projects  of  general  utility. 
He  is  liberal,  and  he  shall  have  the  reward  of  his  liber¬ 
ality,  which  is  praise.  It  would  be  unjust  to  defraud  him. 
This  hale  old  gentleman,  self-made,  fairly  beyond  the 
period  of  self-making,  rubs  his  hands,  beams  on  you, — on 
himself  rather,  and  the  smile  you  get  is  the  second  reflec¬ 
tion — is  wrapt  from  morning  to  morning,  through  waking 
and  through  sleeping  in  one  bland,  delicious  reverie  of  self- 
complacency. 

This  is,  feature  for  feature,  the  portrait  of  the  Church 
of  to-day.  Who  does  not  recognize  it?  Who  will  not 
vouch  for  its  likeness  to  life?  The  Church  has  out-grown 
her  heroic  age.  Her  period  of  attempt  and  aggression  is 
over.  She  is  resting  on  her  oars.  She  reckons  up  her 
achievements.  She  is  Narcissus.  She  beholds  her  own 
image  and  is  enamored  of  it.  Oblivious  with  self-love, 
she  is  pining  away.  She  listens  with  Sybaritic  delight  to 
the  sermons  that  recount  the  struggles  of  her  beginning, 
and  point  the  contrast  between  her  condition  as  it  was 
then  and  her  condition  as  it  is  now.  She  loves  to  remem¬ 
ber  that  then  not  many  wise,  not  many  noble  were  called ; 
and  to  be  reminded  that  now  she  enrolls  the  mightiest  of 
earthly  names  among  the  muster  of  her  membership. 
She  multiplies  her  own  image  under  the  form  of  innu¬ 
merable  societies.  Then  she  holds  anniversaries  and 
jubilees,  and  sits  her  down  to  hearken  while  reports  of 
presidents  and  of  secretaries,  and  speeches  of  eloquent 
orators  celebrate  her  prowess.  She  marvels  herself  each 
time  afresh  at  the  reach  of  her  power,  and  thanks  God 
that  so  much  can  be  done  with  money — and  on  the  whole 
witlrso  little  money. 


HER  INDOLENCE. 


7 


Such  is  the  result  of  one  sitting  of  the  Church  for  her 
portrait.  She  shall  sit  again  under  another  point  of 
view  before  we  have  done ;  hut  first  let  us  bring  the 
picture  already  obtained  under  the  interpreting  lens  of 
revelation,  and  read  its  meaning.  I  find  in  the  third 
chapter  of  the  book  of  the  Revelation  a  passage  exactly 
in  point.  It  reads  as  follows :  Thou  sayest  I  am  rich,  and 
increased  ivith  goods ,  and  have  need  of  nothing:  and  Jcnowest 
not  that  thou  art  wretched ,  and  miserable ,  and  'poor,  and  blind , 
and  naked.  This  is  addressed  to  the  church  in  Laodicea, 
a  church  long  since  extinct.  When  the  warning  was 
addressed  to  her,  she  was  in  her  era  of  self-complacency. 
Self-complacency  therefore  indicates  a  stage  of  decline. 

I  need  not  have  resorted  to  scripture  for  proof,  for 
experience  and  observation  conspire  to  inculcate  the 
same  lesson.  When  a  man  begins  to  congratulate  him¬ 
self,  he  has  already  ceased  to  push  his  triumphs.  The 
earnest  spirit  forgets  the  things  which  are  behind.  And 
Christianity  is  an  earnest  spirit.  Sir  Charles  Napier, 
that  stern  hero  of  the  Peninsular  wars,  was  once  told  by 
a  subordinate  officer,  “  Sir,  we  have  captured  a  standard.” 
His  general  did  not  seem  to  hear  him.  The  news  was 
repeated,  and  then  Sir  Charles  turned  fiercely  on  the 
seeker  after  praise,  and  said,  in  a  voice  like  thunder, 
“  Then  take  another  /”  That  is  what  our  captain  says  to 
us,  when  we  are  enumerating  our  captured  standards. 
The  word  is  always,  “  Take  another.”  Self-complacency 
is  the  mark  of  a  degenerate  church.  And  self-compla¬ 
cency  is  one  of  the  pregnant  signs  of  the  times. 

II.  The  second  salient  feature  of  the  present  religious 
aspect  of  the  world  which  I  shall  sketch,  is  closely  asso¬ 
ciated  with  the  one  already  given.  It  consists  in  a  very 
prevalent  and  noteworthy  withdrawal ,  on  the  part  of  Chris¬ 
tians ,  from  personal  activity  in  the  work  of  Christ. 

This  is  the  age  of  organization,  and  of  labor-saving 
machiens.  The  spirit  of  organization  pervades  <  very- 


8 


THE  CHURCH  OF  TO-DAY. 


thing.  It  is  rife  in  the  world,  and  it  has  penetrated  the 
church.  We  have  come  to  believe  in  the  omnipotence  of 
methods.  If  anything  is  to  be  done,  we  must  have  a 
society  for  doing  it.  A  constitution,  in  due  form,  with 
by-laws,  a  president,  a  secretary,  a  treasurer,  a  corps  of 
agents,  with  circulars,  reports,  pamphlets,  anniversaries, 
and  the  rest— you  have  all  been  brought  up  to  acquaint¬ 
ance  with  the  machinery,  and  you  know  the  latest  pat¬ 
ents — you  could,  any  one  of  you,  be  engineer  yourself,  at 
a  moment’s  notice— these  contrivances  of  men  have  as¬ 
sumed  a  consequence,  in  our  eyes,  that  well  nigh  super¬ 
sedes  reliance  on  God.  We  pay  decorous  compliment  to 
God,  it  is  true,  in  customary  phrases,  as  etiquette  re¬ 
quires;  but  we  tell  each  other,  and  we  make  ourselves 
believe,  that  God  always  works  by  means.  This  is  our  favor¬ 
ite  formula  for  the  exorcism  of  God  from  His  kingdom. 
It  is  the  baptized  infidelity  of  modern  enlightenment— 
the  orthodox  blasphemy  of  self-sufficiency — the  Protestant 
apotheosis  of  method— the  Christian  atheism  of  organiza¬ 
tion. 

We  think  we  can  convert  the  world  with  money.  We 
have  declined,  we  have  slidden  sheer  away,  no  one  knows 
how  far,  from  the  simplicity,  the  individualism  of  the 
New  Testament  times.  We  have  grown  wiser  than  God. 
We  have  found  out  a  way  of  effecting  things  on  a  grander 
scale  than  His.  God’s  method  was  by  contact  of  individ¬ 
ual  heart  with  individual  heart.  This  was  Christ’s  plan 
of  life  for  Himself  and  for  His  followers.  He  would 
multiply  individual  radiant  centres  of  vivifying  power, 
such  as  He  was  Himself,  and  send  them  forth  to  enkindle 
the  world  of  men,  soul  by  soul.  The  apostles  were  thus 
themselves  enkindled  by  contact  with  His  life,  and  they 
became  torch-bearers  in  their  turn  to  others.  The  fire 
they  set  well  nigh  ran  round  the  world.  And  we  hear  of 
no  Missionary  Societies,  no  Bible  Societies,  no  Christian 
Commission,  nothing  but  churches  anywhere.  But  these 


HER  INDOLENCE. 


9 


churches  were  fasces  of  fire-brands,  each  several  brand 
burning  unquenchably.  Wherever  one  went,  there 
sprang  up  a  conflagration.  It  was  a  universal  incendia¬ 
rism  of  the  Gospel.  And  the  whole  secret  is  laid  bare  in 
one  line  of  Scripture,  They  went  everywhere  preaching  the 
Word . 

Worldly  wisdom  has  made  us  ashamed  of  working  in 
this  antiquated  way.  It  is  too  slow.  It  involves  too 
much  individual  labor.  It  does  not  take  advantage  of 
organization.  In  short,  it  is  a  kind  of  retail  business. 
And  we  have  got  beyond  that.  We  have  acquired  capital 
and  experience,  and  we  can  operate  at  wholesale.  And 
so  we  follow  the  world,  early  and  late,  we  are  merchants, 
and  mechanics,  and  lawyers,  and  physicians,  and  manu¬ 
facturers — -all  which  is  right  enough,  and  accordant  with 
scriptural  sanction;  but  then,  whereas  merchant  and  me¬ 
chanic  and  lawyer  and  physician  and  manufacturer 
should  be  evangelist  too,  and  fulfil  a  personal  apostlesliip, 
instead  of  that,  each  plies  his  several  craft,  and  at  last  all 
club  together  to  employ  a  substitute,  who  is  pastor,  col¬ 
porteur,  missionary,  as  the  case  may  be.  This  is  division 
of  labor — that  famous  invention  of  modern  times,  which 
puts  to  the  blush  the  clumsy  method  of  the  Saviour  and 
His  apostles.  Once  in  a  while,  a  living  soul  is  found  in 
the  church,  whose  piety  can  survive  this  petrifying  insu¬ 
lation  from  the  vitalizing  contacts  of  personal  work. 
Once  in  a  while,  a  substitute  is  jirocured,  who  can  main¬ 
tain  his  consecration  and  his  zeal,  at  the  level  of  useful 
activity,  amid  the  universal  subsidence  of  the  Christian 
spirit  around  him.  But  these  are  the  exceptions.  The 
rule  is,  that  employers  and  employed,  in  this  miserable 
traffic  of  substitution,  go  plumb  down  to  the  spiritual  zero 
together. 

The  fact  is,  that  it  happens  to  the  kingdom  of  God,  as 
it  happened  to  this  republic  during  one  of  the  conscrip¬ 
tions  of  the  recent  war.  A  draft  was  ordered,  with  a 


10 


THE  CHURCH  OF  TO-DAY. 


clause  allowing  of  commutation  at  a  certain  fixed  sum  of 
money.  Those  who  preferred,  for  any  reason,  might  re¬ 
spond  by  substitute.  The  state  wanted  an  army  of  citi¬ 
zens.  It  got  a  regiment  or  two  of  substitutes,  and  a  few 
millions  of  money.  The  kingdom  of  God  orders  a  per¬ 
petual  conscription  of  all  its  subjects,  without  distinction 
of  age,  sex,  or  condition.  This  kingdom  is  always  at 
war,  and  it  lives  by  conquest.  Its  need  of  recruits  is 
therefore  incessant,  it  is  pressing  and  imperious.  But, 
behold,  the  church  has  made  the  pregnant  discovery  that 
we  can  respond  otherwise  than  personally.  VVe  can 
appear  by  substitute,  or  we  can  pay  our  commutation. 
The  result  is — just  what  we  see,  an  army  of  mercenaries, 
some  of  them  as  faithful,  God  bless  them !  as  the  famous 
Swiss  Guard,  and  a  river,  running  fitfully,  sometimes  a 
freshet,  often  very  low,  an  Ohio  river — of  revenue !  Christ 
wants  men,  and  we  give  Him  money. 

How  is  it,  brethren,  that  we  make  this  mistake?  Where 
did  we  obtain  the  idea  that  we  could  satisfy  the  terms  of 
the  conscription,  which  run,  Let  him  that  heareth  say  Come , 
without  responding  in  person?  Has  wealth  acquired 
some  magic  power,  that  it  did  not  possess  when  Christ 
came  down  Himself  to  save  us?  He  owned  the  wealth 
of  the  universe,  and  yet  He  came  Himself.  Nay,  so  little 
did  He  think  of  wealth,  as  a  means  of  redemption,  that 
He  even  laid  all  His  wealth  aside,  when  He  came,  and 
made  Himself  poor.  He  chose  His  apostles  of  the  poor. 
Surely  Christ — or  we — have  mistaken  grievously.  Alas, 
alas,  my  brethren! 

Meanwhile,  incredible  as  it  ought  to  be,  we  are  obliged 
to  confess  that  it  is  true — our  age  is  marked  by  the  gen¬ 
eral  withdrawal  of  Christians  from  personal  activity  in 
the  work  of  Christ. 

That  nation  does  not  long  survive,  whose  citizens  com¬ 
mit  her  safety  to  the  keeping  of  mercenary  soldiers.  An 
age  of  Christianity,  that  supinely  abandons  the  kingdom 


HER  LIBERALISM. 


11 


of  God  to  the  zeal  of  hirelings,  has  abdicated  the  right  to 
continued  existence.  Withdrawal  from  personal  service 
in  the  kingdom  of  God,  remember,  is  the  second  feature 
which  I  name  as  belonging  to  the  current  age  of  the 
church.  It  is  a  tit  companion-feature  for  the  first  one 
mentioned,  self-complacency.  Self-complacency  and  indolence , 
simpering  sisters  in  the  family  of  effeminacy!  How  a  new 
Pentecostal  effusion  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  poured  out,  as  in 
the  beginning,  until  it  made  a  baptism  and  buried  us  all — 
how  such  a  flood  of  fire  would  consume  our  vanity  and 
our  sloth !  How  we  should  rise  regenerate  from  it,  clad 
with  zeal  as  with  a  cloak  of  flame  !  Then  the  now  exult¬ 
ant  host  of  Satan  should  behold  the  Church  once  more  in 
her  battle-array,  fair  as  the  moon ,  clear  as  the  sun ,  and  terri¬ 
ble  as  an  army  with  banners  ! 

III.  The  third  feature  of  the  present  religious  aspect 
of  the  world,  to  which  I  draw  your  attention,  as  full  of 
suggestive  significance,  is  the  tendency  everywhere  ob¬ 
servable  among  Christians  towards  what  I  may  term  the 
sentimentalism  of  unity. 

This  tendency  is  so  popular  and  so  powerful,  that  it 
requires  some  courage  to  breast  it.  But  in  the  name  of 
truth,  and  in  the  strength  of  Christ,  who  is  the  Truth,  I 
stand  in  mid-current  and  breast  it.  I  frankly  avow  my 
belief  that  the  sentiment  of  which  I  speak  is  morbid,  and 
not  healthy.  I  believe  it  to  be  a  symptom,  not  of  vigor, 
but  of  decay.  I  know  the  aspiration  of  my  Lord  for  the 
union  of  His  followers,  and  reverently  I  claim  that  I 
share  it.  I  remember  how  he  prayed  as  our  High  Priest 
that  we  all  might  be  one.  The  union  that  He  prayed 
for  was  the  culmination  and  the  climax  of  His  desire  in 
our  behalf.  It  gathered  into  one  all-inclusive  request, 
the  sum  of  petitions  without  number.  It  was,  then,  no 
light,  no  superficial,  no  transient,  no  illusory  union  that 
He  craved.  It  was  not  the  mechanic  external  coition  of 
heterogeneous  elements — precarious,  capricious — the  crea- 


12 


THE  CHURCH  OF  TO-DAY, 


ture  of  compromise,  the  sportive  offspring  of  a  chance 
reciprocal  gush  of  human  good-fellowship.  It  was  a 
high,  a  heavenly,  a  real,  a  mystic  union  of  beings  inter¬ 
fused  by  the  mediation  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  m  the  element 

of  the  Divine  Nature  itself.  We  were  to  be  one  with 

! 

each  other,  by  being  all  one  in  God.  So  Jesus  expressly 
prays  to  His  Father.  That  they  may  he  one  in  us ,  are  His 
words. 

Evidently,  therefore,  the  union  of  believers,  which  was 
the  object  of  our  Saviour’s  desire,  is  not  a  sentiment,  but  a 
fact— not  a  semblance,  but,  again,  a  fact.  We  are  to 
realize  it  as  a  fact,  not  for  ourselves,  but  for  God.  We 
need  not  even  be  conscious  of  it,  being  absorbed  rather 
in  the  far  transcending  consciousness  of  union  with  God, 
Much  less  need  we  seek  to  symbolize  our  union  outwardly 
to  the  world.  If  we  really  are  one,  the  seeming  may 
safely  be  trusted  to  God.  Being,  not  seeming,  is  for  us. 
And  we  shall  he  one  with  each  other,  exactly  in  degree  as 
we  are  one  in  God.  No  other  mutual  union  is  possible, 
and  no  other  were  desirable.  Struggle  towards  God, 
therefore,  should  be  our  work,  and  not  struggle  towards 
each  other.  The  radii  of  a  circle  all  diverge  along  their 
lengths,  but  they  meet  in  the  centre.  And  God  is  our 
centre.  Upward,  then,  towards  God,  along  the  glittering: 
paths  that  lead  to  Him!  No  cross-paths  to  get  together 
before  we  get  to  Him!  We  shall  only  lose  time  and  per¬ 
haps  may  lose  our  way.  Upward,  ever,  one  and  all  !— 
singing  each, 

Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee  I' 

The  way  to  mutual  union,  therefore,  is  the  common  love 
of  truth.  Intense  love  of  truth,  by  which  I  mean  intense 
love  of  Christ,  proving  itself  in  His  own  chosen  way  by 
loyally  keeping  His  commandments — this  is  the  sign  of 
a  strenuous,  an  advancing,  a  victorious  church.  Christ’s 
commandments  are  the  symbols  of  our  flag.  We  dare 


HER  LIBERALISM. 


13 


not  add,  dare  not  tear  out  one.  The  different  denomina- 
tions  of  Christians  are  sometimes  compared  to  the  regi¬ 
ments  which  compose  one  army.  They  each  are  mar¬ 
shalled,  they  march  and  they  fight,  under  their  respective 
regimental  standards.  If  any  of  our  regimental  organ¬ 
izations  carry  standards  emblazoned  with  symbols  not  to 
be  found  among  the  commandments  of  Christ,  it  is  for 
such  to  blot  those  symbols  out.  They  have  no  business 
there.  The  true  flag  is  one;  it  is  inscribed  with  the  com¬ 
mandments  of  Christ,  onlv  these  and  all  these.  We 
ought,  each  regiment  of  us,  to  assure  ourselves  as  well  as 
we  can,  that  we  carry  the  whole  flag,  and  nothing  but  the 
flag.  Then,  if  we  are  loyal  and  true,  we  shall  fight  for  that, 
every  yard  of  it,  every  foot  of  it,  every  inch  of  it,  every 
shred  of  it !  Not  one  thread,  of  warp  or  woof,  that  is  not 
dyed  red  with  precious  blood.  Our  weapons  will  be  tem¬ 
pered  true,  and  sharpened  shrewd,  with  heavenly  love. 
The  wounds  we  make  will  then  heal  themselves,  and  heal 
the  wounded  too.  This  is  the  loyal  soldier’s  duty,  and 
the  loyal  soldier’s  joy.  A  few  campaigns  of  fighting  to¬ 
gether,  in  this  spirit,  would  be  sure  to  break  down  our 
denominational  organizations  without  our  effort ;  and  we 
should  find  the  one  army  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  reduced 
to  its  true,  its  scriptural  organization,  in  which  denomina¬ 
tions  should  be  unknown,  and  there  should  be  no  regiments 
but — churches. 

But  the  present  sentimental  sigh,  with  which  the 
Church  is  all  agape,  for  outward  uuity,  betokens  any¬ 
thing  rather  than  the  vigor  and  the  struggle  of  life.  It 
is  a  feeling  begotten,  not  of  increasing  love  to  God,  but  of 
slackening  loyalty  to  truth.  Liberalism  is  the  disease  of 
the  Church.  It  is  a  dropsy  that  waters  all  her  joints — it 
is  a  palsy  that  withers  all  her  sinews. 

I  remember  an  instructive  historic  parallel.  At  the 
moment  of  supreme  decrepitude  with  the  Eastern  Empire, 
holding  her  capital  at  Constantinople  under  the  imminent 


14 


THE  CHURCH  OF  TO-DAY. 


menace  of  the  Turks,  there  was  an  unseasonable  effort  at 
compromise  and  union  between  the  Greek  and  the  Latin 
Church.  It  was  the  ineffectual  endeavor  of  imbecility, 
the  sick  man  straining  after  a  false  phantom  of  hope — it 
was  a  sigh  for  the  consolation  of  mutual  sympathy  in 
weakness,  where  neither  part  had  any  strength  to  be  rein¬ 
forced  or  to  share.  Soldiers  in  actual  warfare,  campaign¬ 
ing  side  by  side,  feel  their  oneness  in  a  common  cause 
without  talking  about  it.  It  is  only  after  the  war  is  over 
that  they  need  revive  their  languid  sentiment  of  oneness 
by  recounting  the  ties  which  unite  them,  and  by  mutual 
declarations  of  love.  Self-complacency — indolence — liberal¬ 
ism — these  compose  a  triad  of  features  which  bespeak  the 
decadence  of  a  Christian  age  that  possesses  them. 

IV.  It  would  b*e  impossible,  within  the  limits  of  a  sin¬ 
gle  discourse  of  such  length  as  the  uneasy  ears  of  this 
generation  are  willing  to  hear,  to  enumerate  all  the  char¬ 
acteristics  which  give  its  physiognomy  to  the  present  age 
of  the  Church.  But  there  is  a  fourth  feature,  belonging 
to  its  aspect,  too  important  to  be  overlooked.  Not  even 
the  recollection  of  last  Sunday’s  allusion  to  it  will  excuse 
the  omission  of  a  glance  at  it  now.  I  refer  to  the  spirit 
of  worldliness  that  has  taken  possession  of  the  Church. 
In  one  word,  then,  ivorldliness  is  the  fourth  and  last  fea¬ 
ture  of  the  Church’s  present  aspect,  that  I  shall  detain 
you  to  notice. 

This  feature,  though  apparently  different,  is  in  reality 
the  same  with  the  one  last  spoken  of.  Liberalism  and 
ivorldliness  are  twin  offshoots  from  a  single  root.  That  root 
is  laxness  of  loyalty  to  Christ.  The  slack  hold  we  have 
of  earnest  convictions  allows  us  to  lay  them  easily  by, 
whether  it  is  some  sister  denomination  of  Christians,  or 
the  world  outside,  with  whom,  for  the  sake  of  politeness 
and  general  good  feeling,  we  would  seem  to  be  one.  The 
maxim  of  our  Saviour  has .  its  apjdication  here  :  He  that 
is  faithful  in  that  which  is  least  is  faithful  also  in  much.  If 


HER  WORLDLINESS. 


15 


we  can  keep  the  less  commandments  of  our  Lord,  against 
the  temptation  to  display  our  liberality  at  His  expense, 
we  shall  find  it  comparatively  easy  to  be  obedient  in  the 
greater  commandments.  On  the  other  hand,  if  we  yield 
a  little,  we  shall  find  it  hard  not  to  yield  more.  A  small 
leak  will  let  out  much  water  and — mark  one  thing — leaks 
grow.  Accordingly,  it  is  not  strange  to  discover  that  the 
liberalistic  church  is  also  the  worldly  church. 

Time  was  when  it  sped  otherwise.  Time  was,  for  at 
least  one  happy  moment  of  Christian  history,  in  the  un¬ 
corrupted  virtue  of  the  beginning,  when,  against  the 
vain,  the  frivolous,  the  hurtful,  the  immoral  amuse¬ 
ments  of  the  world — its  circus,  its  theatre,  its  dance, 
its  gladiatorial  shows ;  as  also  against  its  extravagancies 
and  indecencies  of  personal  decoration,  and  its  besotted 
devotion  to  gain — the  little  church,  of  not  many  wise,  not 
many  noble,  preached  and  practised  a  brave  protest.  And 
the  little  one  prevailed.  The  fashion  of  the  world  passed 
utterly  away.  But  the  world  did  not.  The  world  linger¬ 
ed  yet,  and,  quick  to  fence  for  life,  took  on  another  fashion. 
How  look. around  you  and  answer  me  these  questions: 
Where  is  the  Church  that  has  the  courage  to  stand  straight 
up  before  the  world,  and  not  crook  the  pregnant  hinges  of 
the  knees  that  thrift  may  follow  fawning?  Where  is  the 
Church  that  will  not  lift  the  yoke  of  the  Christian  profes¬ 
sion  so  that  the  world  can  come  under  it  without  bending 
the  neck  ?  Where  is  the  Church  to  enter  which  the  con¬ 
vert  is  obliged  to  give  up  anything — that  is  tolerated  in 
polite  society?  Where  is  the  Church  whose  members  do 
not,  many  of  them  at  least,  do  everything  by  way  of  in¬ 
dulging  themselves  that  would  be  deemed  respectable  by 
people  of  the  world  ?  Where  is  the  Church  that  dares 
unflinchingly  testify  against  horse-racing,  theatre-going, 
opera-attending,  dancing,  Sunday  evening  Sacred  Con¬ 
certs,  Sunday  morning  newspapers,  wine-drinking,  dress¬ 
ing  like  the  citizens  of  Vanity  Fair,  and  bedizening  the 


16 


THE  CHURCH  OF  TO-DAY. 


person  with  plaitings  of  the  hair,  and  with  bands  and 
ornaments  of  gold  and  tinselry,  like  the  inhabitants  of 
the  South  Sea  Islands  ? 

The  Church  has  tied  her  own  hands,  and  she  is  helpless 
against  all  these  things.  The  world  has  pressed  in  and 
swamped  us.  We  are  out-numbered  and  out- voted.  The 
lobby  controls  the  house.  The  modern  fashion  of  the 
world,  alas,  confronts  a  silent  church.  No  challenge,  no 
protest,  along  the  battle-line  of  her  dumb-smitten  hosts. 
Where  is  thy  voice,  oh  church — where  is  thy  voice  for 
Glod  ?  Speak !  speak  !  and  break  this  dreadful  spell ! 
In  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Nazareth ,  Thou  dumb  and  deaf 
spirit,  1  charge  thee ,  come  out  of  her  ! 

With  these  four  features  of  the  Church’s  present  aspect, 
depicted  with  such  fidelity  as  I  have  been  able — her 
self  complacency,  her  indolence ,  her  liberalism,  and  her  world - 
liness,  I  draw  the  day’s  discussion  to  its  close. 

What,  you  will  ask,  is  my  practical  conclusion  ?  Do  I 
counsel  despair  ?  In  time  of  extremity,  when  hope  is 
loyalty,  despair  is  treason — no  !  I  counsel  work — man¬ 
ful  work.  To  your  oars,  brethren,  every  one,  and  pull 
each  a  lusty  stroke.  The  current  is  strong — we  are  near¬ 
ing  the  rapids — and  the  leap  of  Niagara  is  death.  But 
the  drift  that  hurries  us  on  is  not  irresistible  yet.  There 
is  a  victory  that  overcometh  the  world.  Christ  with  us, 
and  good  rowing  shall  save  us  after  all.  But  wre  must 
stop  drifting,  and  take  to  our  oars  in  earnest.  I  seem  now 
to  feel  the  boat  leap,  as  the  choral  stroke  of  all  your  arms 
together,  brethren,  sends  it  bounding  upward  against  the 
mighty  tide.  You  have  been  toying  with  your  oars,  hith¬ 
erto.  Only  your  little  fingers  have  rested  on  them,  while 
the  strength  of  your  girded  loins  has  been  given  to  the  . 
world.  Come,  brethren,  now,  young  and  old,  both  hands 
and  bended  backs ;  let  us  try  for  the  rest  of  our  lives,  if 
that  be  not  true,  greater  is  He  that  is  in  its  than  he  that  is  in 
the  world. 


■5 


